Take That
by El Gringo Loco
Summary: Reading that the innocent and much maligned authors are again being dragged before the Fan Fiction Court. An author enlists the aid of old friends to teach the  "Boyz from barracks two"  aka: "The Sore Losers from Barracks two" a lesson.
1. Chapter 1

_The "boyz from barracks two" aka:"The Sore Losers" are up to their old tricks. And innocent, hard working authors are once again being dragged before the dreaded Fan Fiction Court. Taking exception to their high handed tactics, one author, a veteran of the first trials, enlists the aid of old friends from 1960's TV to teach them a lesson. Please note, that this is a work of fiction - trying this, or anything even remotely like it in real life, could easily get one into "a whole heap of trouble." _

_That said, This is a work of fan fiction written for my own amusement, without any hope or prospect of monetary reward. I do not own any of the rights to either Hogan's Heroes, Time Tunnel or any other series that might find itself referenced here. Any canon characters used from them are, and will forever remain, the sole properties of someone other than me._

* * *

><p>Shaking my head, and taking the name of Hogan in vain, I reached for a cigarette. "First, he drags everyone through a months long trial. Then he throws in the towel. And now he's trying it again?" Lighting up I wonder "And what's Riker doing back in the courtroom. Are we so important that Starfleet is willing to tie up a Galaxy class starship to harass us? Next thing you know they'll be putting our pictures up in every Federation post office in the galaxy."<p>

I chuckle a bit at that last thought. Maybe they'll give us our own section among the most wanted criminals in the universe. Caution - they're Armed -with laptops. And Dangerous - they know how to use them. Again shaking my head at the sometimes convaluted workings of my alleged mind. I pick up my cane and head to the kitchen for more coffee.

Another Camel and coffee later, I go back to the computer and think back to the first trial. I wound up spending almost two months in the Enterprise sickbay after having a heart attack when they tried to serve me. Doctor Crusher had actually used some of my cells to selectively clone me a new heart. For which I was grateful. Ah the miracles of 24th century medicine. But the techniques she used are still theoretical in the early 21st century. You try explaining to a cardiologist how previously documented heart damage suddenly and spontaneously healed itself without coming across as a nut case. Trust me, it ain't easy.

But however good the new heart is, the heart attack that led to my needing it was their fault. First there was that Ferengi process server I clobbered, and unintentionally killed, when he beamed into my home. Worf's angry scowl as he confronted me, at phaser point, in the transporter room must have been the final trigger. And then there was Riker's double dealing in the courtroom. As Newkirk had said at the time, the court cleared me in the Ferengi's death calling it excusable homicide. But Riker wanted to hang me anyway. And while he got into a fair amount of trouble for trying it, based on these new proceedings, he doesn't appear to have learned a thing. Neither has Hogan apparently.

Now I may be an old man. And I might need a cane to get around. But when you start messing with my friends you're messing with me. So Colonel Robert E Hogan and Commander William T Riker, to borrow the immortal words of Gunsmoke's Deputy Festus Hagan, "You mess with my friends, and I'm gonna get all on you like ugly on an ape."

My first call was to invite an old friend for coffee. After some pleasantries, I asked. "Tell me Ann, have you heard about the new fan fiction trials?" "Hasn't everyone?" she answered? "They've been all over the web. Why do you ask?"

"Well there's fiction written about you folks. Ever have a problem with it?"

"Not that I can think of. But then again, Time Tunnel doesn't get nearly as much as Hogan's Heroes or some of the other ones."

"Not your fault, you had a good show. What bothered me was that the writers abandoned Doug and Tony, left them floating out there in time."

"We were all furious about that." And for a moment I thought she was going to cry.

"I remember. And how happy you were when the authors brought them home?"

She stopped crying and looked me in the eye. "Yes they did. And we owe them, big time. But what's your stake in this?"

"I was one of the authors they dragged in the first time. The one that had the heart attack and had to be treated aboard the starship."

"You're El Gringo Loco? You're the one - Oh that scene with Hochstetter on a plate was just priceless. And in your story you - oh that was so deliciously cruel. I just loved it."

"Glad you approve. Because the "boyz from barracks two" are getting too big for their britches again."

"You know how much I like naughty boys."

"And I can think of a few need a really good spanking."

"Oooh" Her voice got low and husky. "Tell me more,"


	2. Chapter 2

A few days later Ann and I met with Endora, a tall middle aged woman with bright coppery hair, green eyes and an evil grin. Seeing Ann she opened her arms. "You were one of my biggest fans." Looking then at me she went on, "How nice of you to introduce us."

They say the way to a man's heart is thru his stomach. Well, it's kind of a round about route if you ask me. But it can be a useful one when working with women as well. And I fired my best shot with generous portions of Hot Apple pie, Vanilla Ice Cream and a sweet cinnamon coffee I learned to make in Mexico, Both women listened intently, then agreed to help with the plan as I laid it out for them. Again I reminded them, "I don't want to change the course of World War 2. Just teach them a lesson."

Endora then waved an arm and suddenly we were in the long moth balled control room of Tick Tock base. The time tunnel gaping like a hungry mouth before us. Suddenly, at a snap of Endora's fingers, the panels lit up and the old computers began to hum. Ann's dark skirt suit took on new shape and a menacing insignia. Endora again reminded her. "When you're ready to come back. Just click your jackboots three times, and say - Heil Endora." "I'll remember. Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" Endora hugged her, "Much as I'd love to this is your show. But don't be surprised if I drop in from time to time."

A moment later Ann walked into the tunnel. Small explosions and mushroom clouds followed her down the tunnel, and then the time vortex took her.

Raus, raus, raus, Schultz bellowed as the barracks door opened with a crash. Grudgingly, men began rolling out of their bunks. In his small office Hogan rolled over and realized something was wrong.

"But coronel this can't be happening. It just isn't possible." Le Beau said in a near panic. "It isn't possible. But we'll figure it out later. Right now we'd better get out there before something else happens."

Shultz was shaking so badly he could barely count. Finally he asked, "Is everyone here?" Then turned to see a tall dark haired woman in the uniform of an SS Colonel emerge from the kommandants quarters. A moment later her high pitched voice barked - "REPORT."

Still stammering Shultz could barely get out the words. "All present or accounted for Frau Kommandant." "Good." The woman returned his salute. "Strip the prisoners."

"Strip the prisoners Frau Kommandant?"

Walking up to the portly sergeant, the woman jabbed her riding crop under his chin. "Order the prisoners to strip naked and collect their clothes. NOW!" "Jaaa ...Javohl Frau Kommandant.."

Hogan stepped forward. "Frau Kommandant. I protest. Under the Geneva Convention, prisoners - are allowed to keep their basic uniforms."

"Your protest is noted. Now you were ordered to strip. Do it. NOW!"

A short time later the shivering prisoners stood naked. "Prisoners of the Third Reich. Your Colonel's protest has cost you breakfast. Sergeant, you will instruct these prisoners in the glorious German Goose step, then conduct them in one hour of close order drill."

The orders brought howls of protest. An evil smile on her lips the woman again turned to Shultz. 'Sergeant, by their complaints, it would seem that the prisoners think one hour of drill insufficient, therefore, you will drill them for two hours." A shocked silence followed. The woman nodded approvingly, "Carry on sergeant."

Two hours of close order drill in bare feet seemed like an eternity to the naked prisoners. And even longer to the overweight sergeant who led them. Arriving back at their barracks, they found the new Kommandant waiting for them. "Call the prisoners to attention Sergeant."

Deciding to take a chance Hogan called. "Permission to speak Frau Kommandant?"

Holding her riding crop in both hands across her body the woman glared at him coldly. "Permission denied. I will speak, you will listen."

"Prisoners of the Third Reich, I am SS Standartenfurher Anna Muller, your new kommandant. I hope you enjoyed your little walk this morning. Because the sergeant will be taking you on another one tomorrow morning." An already heavily panting Shultz looked like he was going to faint. Smiling grimly she looked over the prisoner ranks. ""Now, you're probably wondering about certain, other changes that have taken place. -"

She went on finishing, "Sergeant, you will lead the prisoners in a half hour of calisthenics then march them to the showers. I will send additional guards to help. They are to be kept together and in plain sight at all times. Regardless of what they are doing."

"In the showers Frau Kommandant."

"At all times Sergeant, Whether they're in the showers, latrines or asleep. They are to be watched."

"But - but - but - Frau Kommandant - They are all women."

"Would you rather watch a Russian Tank Sergeant?"

"Nein Frau Kommandant."

Her voice got dropped, "Then don't ever question my orders again."

Finally back at the barracks that evening, an exhausted group of prisoners gathered around Hogan. Closing his eyes for a moment to shut out the pink shifts and panties the prisoners had been issued. He tried to collect his thoughts. "Look guys, I don't know how this happened either. But that new Kommandant has got to go." This brought agreement and several crude suggestions from the prisoners. "Kinch, contact London. See what you can find out about her."

The tall black sergeant moved to the bunk over the tunnel entrance. "Should I tell them what's happened sir, ah ma'am?" A loud chorus of "NO" drowned out any chance Hogan had to answer. "Not yet Kinch, just see what you can find out about that witch."

Slapping the upper bunk rail. "Yes ma'am."

"Kinch" Hogan snapped. Then a moment later. "Sorry Kinch, I just -" "I know Colonel. This is new to all of us."

Again slapping the upper bunk rail, his voice rose. "Colonel, the bunk's not working." "Check the latch, something must be jammed." Bending to check the underside of the bunk, Kinch's voice went up in alarm. "Colonel." "The latch, everything - it's gone." "Gone? How" "I don't know Colonel it's just gone."

A near panic broke out in the barracks. Hogan called out. "Everybody calm down." Then much more softly. "Check the other bunks. Maybe they just switched them around on us."

A quick check of the other bunks showed them to be without any secret modifications. "Carter watch the door. The rest of you, move that bunk and see if we've still got a tunnel under it."

Now Hogan himself fought back the panic. Not only was the tunnel filled in. But the emergency pistols, maps, coffee pot and the rest of their gear were gone as well. Someone had closed down their operation and turned Stalag 13 back into a prison. And a woman's prison under SS command at that.

Just when things couldn't get any worse they did as Carter called from the door. "Staff car coming in. Looks like Hochstetter." A moment later she announced, "Second car coming in - looks like, like - it's Burkhalter."

"Great, and without the coffee pot we might as well be deaf and blind."


	3. Chapter 3

_Now Hogan himself fought back the panic. Not only was the tunnel filled in. But the emergency pistols, maps, coffee pot and the rest of their gear were gone as well. Someone had closed down their operation and turned Stalag 13 back into a prison. And a woman's prison under SS command at that._

_Just when things couldn't get any worse they did as Carter called from the door. "Staff car coming in. Looks like Hochstetter." A moment later she announced, "Second car coming in - looks like, like - it's Burkhalter."_

_"Great, and without the coffee pot we might as well be deaf and blind."_

Looking around the room, a grim faced Kinch asked softly. "What do we do now Colonel?" A badly shaken Hogan replied. "I don't know Kinch. But I'd give a lot to know what's going on in that office right about now." Hearing angry sputtering in French, she turned. "What's wrong Le Beau?" "Our supplies Coronel, and all that I use to cook with, they are gone like everything else?"

Hogan echoed the general groan. "Everything?" "Oui mon Coronel, everything."

Her thoughts anything but ladylike, Hogan leaned on the small stove side table. "So in addition to being trapped in this God forsaken hole, with that witch. We've got no choice but to eat in the mess hall. Anybody's got any suggestions, now would be a really good time?"

Sir, ah ma'am." "What Carter?" "Maybe we could get into the tunnels from one of the other barracks?"

"And just how do we get there looking like this? In these dresses, we'd stick out on the grounds like a sore thumb." Then turning to face Carter. "And don't forget that most of those guys haven't seen a woman in a long time." Newkirks's jaw dropped. " Colonel you can't mean -"

"I do mean, and I wish I didn't. But assuming one of us did get to another barracks. There's no telling what we'd find, or what kind of reception we'd get when we got there. Oh, and don't forget that we're supposed to be being watched at all times. We're lucky there aren't guards in here right now."

"What about Wilson Colonel, being camp medic, he could check things out for us." "Good idea Kinch. Carter, check the door, see if Shultz is still around somewhere. Everybody look around, see if we've got anything left to bribe him with."

* * *

><p>Knocking on the door a couple of minutes later, a shaken Shultz fearfully asked "Is everybody decent in there?" "Come on in Shultz, We're decent." Hogan replied. "You wanted to see me Colonel Hogan?"<p>

"Sit down Shultz." Seating himself at the table Shultz replied. "Already I do not like the sound of this." "Neither do we, and we're hoping maybe you can help us figure it out."

"I know nothing." Shultz started to stand but was gently guided back to his seat. "Please Colonel Hogan, it is a terrible thing that has happened to you. But about this, I really do know nothing."

"What happened to Klink Shultz?" "Please Colonel Hogan, I have a family. Kinder I'd like to see again." "We have families too Shultz, and I really can't see us going home to them like this."

Folding her arms, Le Beau looked the terrified sergeant in the eye. "You know nothing. Well I'll tell you something. Whoever did this to us cleaned us out.. Everything, our chocolate bars, my strudel pans and spices, and all the other goodies you like so much. It is gone, all of it, gone."

"But, but who would do such a thing?" Hogan replied. "That's what we want to know Shultz. Now tell us everything you know about that new Kommandant. Who is she? Where did she come from? And while you're at it, tell us what happened to Colonel Klink?"

"Colonel please, the first I know of anything was when I came in this morning for roll call."Grabbing a handful of shift Hogan replied softly. "We're not blaming you Shultz. You couldn't have done this to us if you wanted to. Now about the new Kommandant."

"All I know is that she came in the night. Nothing more."

"Well, she had to have orders authorizing her to take command. Who besides Colonel Klink would have seen them? And where would they be now?"

"Please Colonel, I do not know." "Shultz!" "Alright, I found out about her at roll call this morning just like you did. Colonel Klink and Captain Gruber would have seen her orders. But nobody has seen either of them today or told me anything about anything. Please Colonel Hogan, may I go now?"

Hogan put a reassuring hand on the now terrified Sergeant's shoulder. "Alright Shultz, but just remember that who or what ever did this to us could just as easily do it to you. So if you know anything else?" He let the question dangle. "They wouldn't, would they?"

"I hope not. But Shultz, would you mind telling Sergeant Wilson I'd like to see him?"

"Sergeant Wilson? Why? Is someone sick?"

"Well, to tell you the truth Shultz, I don't really know. But all of us have been feeling a bit strange today." Standing Shultz snorted, "a bit strange? Why am I not surprised? Okay, I'll tell Sergeant Wilson you want to see him. But please Colonel Hogan, do not make trouble for me with the SS. They are not nice people." "Wouldn't dream of it Shultz."

* * *

><p>Meantime in the Kommandants's office, Ann waited smugly while first a wide eyed General Burkhalter, then Major Hochstetter read her "orders." The men looked at each other, then to Ann in disbelief. A few moments later, the normally blustering Hochstetter cautiously took the plunge.<p>

"Never have I seen such orders Frau Standartenfurher, they are most unusual." "Are you questioning them Major? Perhaps you did not notice who's seal and signature they bear? "

Burkhalter moved to defuse the dangerous situation. "He noticed Standartenfurher, as did I. But as he said, these are most unusual orders." "Are you questioning them Herr General?"

"Seals and signatures can be forged, Standartenfurher." He left the sentence dangling.

"I understand Herr General, it is not my orders you question, but their authenticity."

"Exactly."

"I can assure you Herr General that these orders are quite genuine. But if you wish to call Berchtesgarten and ask the Furher to verify them. You are more than welcome to use my phone to do so."

Burkhalter cringed at the very thought. "I don't think we need to bother Berchtesgarten. I have a copy of my commission in my pay book. It too bears the Furher's signature, so comparing the two should tell us what we need to know." Reaching into his uniform tunic he brought out the pay book, then handed it and Ann's orders to Hochstetter. "Major."

Hochstetter's face turned decided pale as he compared the seals and signatures. Finally he looked up and croaked, "Herr General." "Yes Major, what is your conclusion? Are her orders real?"

Visibly disquieted, Hochstetter struggled to get out the words. "The Standartenfurher's orders Herr General. They are, they are real." Stunned Burkhalter slowly replied. "Are you sure Major? Are you telling me that she really is here on special assignment for the Furher himself."

"Yes Herr General, she is."

Taking the papers from Hochstetter's trembling hands, Burkhalter turned to Ann. "Your orders Frau Standartenfurher. I trust that you understand our caution?" "Of course Herr General. Such orders as mine would have to be extremely rare. And one can never be too cautious with such spies and saboteurs as the Papa Bear running around freely."

"You know of Papa Bear Frau Standartenfurher?" Hochstetter cautiously ventured. "I know everything Major, including the record of your miserable failure to kill or capture him." Seeing Hochstetter cringe, Ann decided to twist the knife. "A record of failure so miserable in fact, that some in Berlin might be wondering if you really do want to rein in this menace?"

Visions of a firing squad, his own, planted themselves firmly before Hochstetter's eyes. "But I assure you Frau Standartenfurher, I dream of nothing else." "Then stop dreaming about it, and do it Major." Ann growled in reply. "I would prefer that you bring him in alive and in condition to talk. But one way or the other that menace must be stopped. And if you cannot, or will not do it. I can assure you, that I will find someone who can. Do you understand me - Major" Fear rang in Hochstetter's voice as he sprang to attention and replied. "Javohl Frau Standartenfurher."

Though thoroughly enjoying Hochstetter's misery, Burkhalter decided _to_ cut him a break. "Standartenfurher Muller, if I understood your orders correctly. You are here to engage in some secret work for the Furher. And that you are authorized to give orders in his name. Orders that persons of all ranks are required to obey, without question, as though they came directly from the Furher's mouth. And that for the duration of your mission you are answerable only to him."

"You understand correctly Herr General. And my first order, to both of you, is that you will speak to no one about either my work or presence here without clearing it with me first."

"Understood Frau Standartenfurher. Now how can we be of assistance to you?"

* * *

><p>.<em>Author's note: Standartenfurher was the SS equivalent of Colonel. <em>

_To give credit where credit is due. Ann's orders were inspired by British novelist Harry Patterson aka: Jack Higgins who, in the mid 1980's, used a similar device in several of his works set during WW2. I highly recommend him and them for those who like WW2 or Cold War spy and adventure novels._

_A touch of history - There were a fair number of security agencies and services SS, SD, Gestapo, etc. under the Nazi regime.. And the relationships between them were complex and confusing with a fair amount of overlapping membership. These got even more so after most were merged into the Reich Home Security Office (RSHA) under Himmler in 1939. And they were still evolving at wars end._

_Rather than attempt to sort it all out, a scholarly endeavor likely worthy of a master's thesis. I've decided to follow Hollywood's example and merge them. And to ignore, as they often have, the fact that the SS itself did not admit women, though they did have an SS Auxiliary (Helferin) Corps that did._


	4. Chapter 4

_All standard disclaimers - I don't own Hogan's Heroes, Time Tunnel, Bewitched etc, apply and can be found in chapter one._

_A short chapter I know, but it felt right to send it here. My heartfelt thanks to those who've reviewed and placed the story on their alerts so far. It means a lot to me. The story itself is a bit out of character for me. In reality, I'm not a chauvanist, misogynist or anything of the like. But I'm having a great time writing it. And I hope you continue to enjoy. _

_A special message to "The "Girls" from Barracks two." Thank you for your review. But are you really sure you want to threaten the person holding the whip? Be afraid - Be very afraid._

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><p>Taking a cup of warm water, Sergeant Joe Wilson, the camp medic lit a cigarette and said quietly. "I can't explain it Colonel. I'm no doctor, but even I know it's just not medically possible."<p>

"Impossible or not, it's happened. And to top it off, our tunnel entrance is gone, along with all of our gear and Colonel Klink. Which means we're pretty much out of business. That is unless one of the other entrances is still open."

Taking a drag off his cigarette, Wilson inhaled deeply. "I'm guessing that's where I come in"

"Afraid so. Joe, I need you to check out the other barracks, see if there's a usable tunnel entrance in any of them." "Tall order Colonel. But I can tell you the ones in nine and twelve are gone too. So I sure wouldn't bet much on any of them being open."

"I wouldn't either, but check anyway. Who ever did this is one thorough going SOB. But they can't have gotten everything."

"They couldn't?" Wilson stopped to look around the room. "Well, when you consider what all they did get. I wouldn't be so sure about that?"

"I'm not. But I sure got a score to settle with whoever tried. They even got Newkirk's pencil sharpener and the laptops."

"We didn't make out much better Colonel. They even cleaned out the rec hall." "The rec hall?" "Yes ma'am. They had us scrubbing them out this afternoom. Everything was gone, even our special limited edition set of fan fiction author dartboards."

A shudder ran through the barracks, accompanied by high pitched, but unimaginative, cussing and cries of sacriledge at the loss of their special shrine.

Covered trucks rolled into Stalag thirteen right after evening roll call. Pulling up to the recreation hall, each disgorged an eight member squad of female SS troopers and their gear. Fraulein Helga, now clad in the smartly cut black uniform of an SS Hauptsturmfurher (Captain) greeted them. "Ladies, Welcome to Stalag Thirteen."

Peeking between the cracks in the shutters, the "Girls in Barracks Two" watched and listened as the trucks rolled in. "What do you think it means Guvn'r." "What else, Trouble."

Back in his office, still smarting from Ann's savage dressing down, Hochstetter threw back a double shot of schnapps. Standartenfuhrer or not, how dare a mere woman threaten him. Then remembering her orders he again shuddered, Yes she dared. But, he asked himself, how could she have gotten the Fuhrer's ear. Were it anyone but the Fuhrer.-

"NO," he told himself firmly. "It is treason to even think such thoughts about the Furhrer." Then shaking his head to clear it of the unbidden mental images. He realized it didn't matter how the woman had gotten the Fuhrer's ear. The fact was that she had it. And unless he got lucky and fast, she was going to have his head as well. Another double schnapps later, he opened his office door and called for his aide, "Get me the Papa Bear files, all of them, NOW!"

* * *

><p>Back in the time tunnel control room Endora and I watched the images unfold. She laughed "They don't look very happy do they." "No ma'am, they sure don't." "Well, (her green eyes twinkled) maybe we can fix that." Nodding, I raised my coffee mug in salute, "The wondrous world of witchcraft" Her wineglass clinked against it. "To merry mischief making." With that, we drank, then settled back to watch the show.<p>

* * *

><p>In keeping with Ann's orders, Hogan's protest not withstanding, male guards were stationed in barracks two just before lights out. And despite their fatigue, and Ann's dire warning to the guards. The "Girls" found it difficult to sleep under their watchful eyes. Unceremoniously kicked out of his office when it was turned into a guard post. Hogan tossed and turned on a bunk in the common area. Struggling as were the rest of the prisoners to make some peace between their thin uncomfortable mattress's and their new unfamiliar bodies.<p>

Dawn was just breaking as ear splitting whistles roused the prisoners from their fitful slumber. And the black clad SS women behind them had none of Shultz's sense of humor. Rolling over with his usual " just five more minutes Shultzie" Newkirk jumped when a heavy riding crop cut sharply into her panty clad backside. "Hey, What'd ya do that for" Her high pitched Cockney voice burned with outrage.

One of the SS women backhanded her. "You will do as you are told Englander. When you are told. And you will not talk back or question what you are told." Then looking directly at Colonel Hogan she growled. "And that goes for all of you. Or there will be consequences, for all of you. Am I understood." Hogan glared back at the woman. "Loud and clear." A moment later a crop lifted her chin. "Loud und clear vhat schwein?" Through clenched teeth, a seething Hogan replied. "Loud and clear, Ma'am."

"Gut. Now, you have ten minutes to use the latrine and be outside for roll call. If one is late, all will be punished. So, as you American schwein would say, I suggest you move it, now!"

Standing in formation a few minutes later, Hogan fumed, More changes had taken place in the night as the prisoners bodies continued to develop their womanly shapes. Gone were the military haircuts. And Hogan chaffed at the unfamiliar sensation of her dark shoulder length hair brushing against the back of her neck. Even more strange felt the heavy weight of the large womanly breasts pulling on her upper chest. And it was the same shoulder length hair and full firm breasts for the other prisoners as well. "We don't make a bad looking bunch of women." She thought. "But we're stuck in this hell hole with a bunch of women hungry men. Maybe it's just as well we're being guarded at night."

Unlike the previous day, the prisoners caused no disturbance while in formation. Marched by Shultz to the mess hall, each was given a piece of black bread and a cup of weak ersatz coffee. They ate quietly, as they had the night before. Each struggling to ignore the suggestive taunts and leering looks coming from the still male prisoners. After breakfast they were marched back to the barracks and given fifteen minutes to use the latrine and clean up. Then, their knee length shifts having proven unsuitable for marching. The prisoners were again ordered to strip. And as he had the day before, a heavily breathing Schultz led them in two hours of close order drill, followed by an hour of naked callisthenics.


End file.
